


Catching Rain

by old_shizuumi151 (shizuumi151)



Category: Free!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating will change, Spy!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shizuumi151/pseuds/old_shizuumi151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hundred years from now, the standards of technology will have grown by leaps and bounds. For spy aficionados, that will mean that any hi-tech gadgets, the stuff of dreams that teased the silver screens centuries ago, will be a reality. </p><p>For a certain agent with a mastery of espionage, infiltration, and anything to do with bodies of water, it'll be a means for his high-risk way of living, and his duty to see a mission through until all its objectives see completion. For a certain thief with wild red hair, wilder fashion sense, and an affinity for anything mechanised to set him ahead of the curve, it'll be how he doesn't have to work a day in his life if he so wishes. </p><p>With the key to finding someone gone M.I.A., plus a couple of smaller thefts here and there, it'll be how said thief unwittingly strings along said agent in a relentless game of cat-and-mouse across the globe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue — F.R.E.E.

**Author's Note:**

> New tech will be introduced along the way of the story, i.e. I'll provide brief backgrounds as to why nearly anything's possible in 22XX
Though plot will be maintained, this fic will _quickly_ devolve into smut (it's the whole point as to why I wrote this I mean hi-tech sex toys why _not_ )
This is all a lot less lame in my head, at least.

> 
> With that, enjoy!
    
    
      LOCATION: Tokyo Museum of Obsoletism, Japan
      TIME: 1052 hours, September 26, 22XX
    
    

“ _Whoaa_ , is that a _laptop_?” a boy in uniform nearly mushed his face to the display glass containing a silver computer. “You tellin’ me people had to carry those things around? They’re _huge_!”

“No, that’s a _desktop_ ,” a girl with the same uniform chided beside him. It was a field trip from the local secondary school, leaving children milling about the tall, warm-lit halls. Glass display cases were suspended in mid-air, and lowered accordingly to the height of the curious students. “Laptops are the smaller ones. My great-grandma showed me one and the other, and you can see the difference really easily.”

“No _way_!” a gaggle of classmates came up in awed whispers. “Those things are ancient, though!”

The girl puffed out her chest. “She’s friends with this museum’s owner, so she even let me try one out. It’s pretty slow, but it was interesting to navigate. None of them have holoscreens to touch or whatever: they’ve glass screens and these things called trackpads.”

“Trackpads? Like, pads that track stuff…?” another girl scratched her head. “That sounds sketchy, honestly.”

“ _No_ , no, not like that. But it’s hard to describe, because it controls something called a cursor—I guess tablets would be easier to think of in this case…”

“ _Tablets_? You mean those prehistoric ones?”

The amazement and discussion only increased from there, but then a blip sounded on their wrists. The students checked their bracelets to see a small hologram of an exclamation mark dancing.

“Oh crap, the tour’s starting! We’re supposed to be with Sensei now!”

The group all rushed to where a spotlight shone on a line-up of machines ranging from centuries ago to present day. A computerised voice echoed pleasantly throughout the walls.

" _Following the academic breakthrough a century ago with the mastery to manipulate and implement nanotechnology, the availability of computational power combined with adaptive responses to user input meant the world’s interpretation of technology had truly evolved. With single nanoprocessors being as capable as one microprocessor and uniquely converting heat produced by processing into its own battery, this revelation meant there were as many central processing units, graphics cards, and internal hardware fit for hundreds of computers that could be sprinkled onto the palm of a hand, creating machines with theoretically infinite battery life._

“ _Thus, with computers packing terabytes more memory through as many nanoprocessors as there were pixels, desktops and laptops became obsolete, and holographic user interfaces, commonly known as holoscreens, swept the nations to become a ubiquitous presence in the people’s day-to-day lives, similar to how smartphones were around the 2000s…_ ”

“Ehhh, who cares about whatever happened a couple hundred years ago,” one of the boys moaned while the virtual tour guide continued. “Besides, this is all gettin’ too technical for me.”

“Holoscreens are just how we work with our computers nowadays,” his friend explained, studying a smartphone in display case that floated down to his eye-level. “Back then they had glass and metal display, and we just have, well, _smaller_ glass and metal to _project_ displays, using detectors on the molecular scale which was made feasible in the 2100s, and not to mention some—”

“ _Ahh_ , shaddap already…!” the whiner clapped his hands over his ears. “Not everyone’s some history-buff-tech-geek like you—it’s all too complicated!”

“I don’t really think too hard about how all this stuff works either,” a girl shrugged, looking at her computer armband. “My grandma was so excited at my first one, saying stuff like ‘ _we’re really in the future, now_ ’, but it’s just a holoscreen. What’s the big deal?”

“Beats me,” her classmate sighed, lacing his hands behind his head. “I’m just counting down the minutes till we can hit the snack shop here,” he grinned while the others burst into laughter, more than ready to make another wisecrack before he bumped into someone. “ _Oof_ —”

He yelped as his balance tipped forward, and he screwed his eyes for the oncoming impact that never came. His eyes flew open instead to a pair of strong hands, with arms covered by expensive-looking suit sleeves, bracing him from the fall.

“Sorry,” a cool voice above his head broke through the murmurs, and he registered that it must have been the man he bumped into. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, m’sorry!” the boy shook his head, gathering his wits about him as he faced up. “I should’ve looked where I was going, I’m really…fi…”

He blinked. A flush came to his cheeks when he realised how striking the stranger’s composed features were. He didn’t remember to move before the man tilted his head curiously.

“Is something the matter?”

“Uh…n- _no_!” he shook his head quickly, clearing his throat in a tiny cough as his classmates glanced between him and the well-dressed man. “I-I’m fine, thank you.”

The man paused for a beat, assessing for any damage before he silently nodded. He retracted his support and swiftly continued on his way, and in the wake of his graceful gait, the students grew in volume again.

“You were so spaced _out_ , man!” one of the girls grinned, the group starting to rag the jostled boy. “What was it that got to you? Eyes or hair?”

“He _did_ have nice hair,” a guy agreed with an earnest nod. “It was all black and smooth ‘n’ what not, like in those hair commercials.”

“Sh- _Shut up_ …!” the boy hissed through his red face, panicking at how the handsome stranger was probably in earshot. “Not so loud, jeez—!”

“It _has_ to be those _blue eyes_ of his!” his friend laughed without shame. “He couldn’t stop staring into them after he was _saved_ ~”

“What about that suit, huh? Didntcha say a guy’s dress sense’s most important or somethin’?”

“Hey, don’t tease him…” another girl piped up shyly. “The man looked really cool, that’s all…”

“ _Oooh_ , what’s this, a _threesome_?”

“Aw, _shut up_ , will ya…?!”

As the group of friends bickered and teased, the stranger had long gone into the corridor leading to the restroom of the museum, and pushed the fire door to enter the barely used stairwell. His steps echoed in the flight of stairs, lingering as whispers when he paused. He pressed his palm onto a tile by the handrail, and the brick emanated a flickering glow. With the sound of wind, an entrance carved itself into the wall. Idly wondering if he was running late, he threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder, before descending into the lightless passage.
    
    
      LOCATION: F.R.E.E. Underground Headquarters, Tokyo, Japan
      TIME: 1055 hours, September 26, 22XX
    

Sharp footsteps clacked measuredly on the marble floor adorned with reflections of the long fluorescent lamps overhead. The unsmiling young man adjusted the cuff under his jet-black Armani, striding ahead to arrive before a perforated steel door fit for a grand safe. Its border glowed a pulsing red against the cool blue tint of the high corridor’s light.

[ _Please enter your information._ ]

The female voice was pre-programmed, smooth with a kind, Japanese coat. There was minimal echo as the man’s sharp blue eyes flicked over to a metal pole sliding out of the ground to his right. It locked into place at waist level, and a small lid slid open to reveal a screen lighting to life.

A digital keypad appeared, and he tapped his code in with practiced speed. His movement was minimal as he drew his hand back to his side, his posture tall and his mouth small and straight as a dot circled in a grey loop in loading. When a thin rectangle came up in the centre of the compact screen, he pressed his thumb in the centre, allowing a white line to scan down the pad of it.

The loading sign came up again before giving way to an eye icon. He bent over to the unobtrusive camera above the screen, brushing his fringe in place so it didn’t shroud over his eyes. His expression of detachment immediately softened as he opened them wider, and they glistened like wide lakes as a slim laser scanned over them with intermittent clicks.

[ _Welcome, Agent Nanase Haruka._ ]

He stood back as the panel lid slid shut and sunk back into the marble ground, facing the door head-on to be permitted entrance. He immediately noted the borders only glowed a sweet yellow, and another panel slid open from the centre of the door to a foot away from his barely confused face.

He allowed the smallest grimace when a tiny antiseptic pad came out of the side to automatically wipe the screen. He let his frown sink a little deeper when a dotted outline of a mouth appeared.

“ _Gotta kiss it, Haru-chan~!_ ”

A boyish voice full of cheer clicked on the lucid speakers instead of the computer program, and Haruka only closed his eyes in a patient fatigue. His professionalism made him refrain from outright rolling his eyes, but a small breath passed through his nose in a huff.

“I can’t believe you implemented it…” he muttered, eyeing the protruding console with distaste.

[ _Please wet your lips._ ]

“I’m not doing this.”

“ _It’s the new security procedure for all Elites, so you gotta go through with it,_ ” the voice chided brightly, and Haruka held back a riposte that ‘all Elites’ apparently must have translated to ‘Haru-chan’, since the lip reader wasn’t there yesterday. “ _Smooch it good, or you’re gonna be late for debriefing!_ ”

This time, Haruka did roll his eyes a slight. But he went back into his usual dispassion as he took a step, closing the distance between him and the panel. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips, and he pressed them in a silent smack. His eyes slid to a gentle close as he leaned forward, letting his slim lips part a millimetre before they pressed on the cool screen.

[ _Please wait three seconds._ ]

His brow knitted a touch as he peeked his eyes open, smelling the citrus scent of the wipe. His nose grazed the screen as a countdown went to zero.

He thumbed the disinfectant off his mouth, with faint blue rings adorning the base of his fingers as the panel receded into the door. He raised an unamused brow when the borders finally glowed green, but went about snapping his fingers to summon a virtual, gold clock—he counted two minutes to eleven as the door unlatched and whirred open.

It wasn’t usually a pain to get the lift working.

The elevator pod Haruka entered was a minimal design of thick glass affixed with metal bands. He turned to face the closing doors, and the overhead lamp came on like a flooding halo.

[ _Where would you like to go, Agent Nanase?_ ]

“Top floor.”

[ _Ascending to Level 4_ ]

The safe door echoed shut as the pod glided towards the unreachable ceiling, and other elevators and agents became visible from the sides. Haruka loosely held onto his wrists behind his waist, observing the levels coasting past his vision as he rose higher.

[ _Level 1: Training Halls._ ]

The elevator went past a simple wooden lobby with a door and receptionist, but the warm hostel exterior hoodwinked unfortunate rookies a many.

> The training halls were where agents would go through various obstacle courses and fitness regimens designed and conducted by the techies of F.R.E.E., and could go to hone their skills for the field. There were shooting ranges with mannequins with standard weapons for close and long-range alike—V.R. rooms that utilised next-gen Neo OcuVitae simulations for practice missions—gymnasiums littered with spikes, ropes and climbing walls to train an agent for hazardous turf—and built for high-pressure aquatic training, a forty-foot deep natatorium, which (in Haruka’s firm opinion) was the best facility that F.R.E.E. had to offer.

[ _Level 2: Technology Laboratories._ ]

> Also known as tech labs, they were the playground of innovation within F.R.E.E., filled with the greatest scientific minds handpicked from the world’s most prestigious academia. Any high-powered gadgets that teased the silver screens centuries ago were now a reality, with each one rigorously tested in first draft trials, further experimentation, and then fitness for fieldwork.
> 
> And, as any institution of espionage is incomplete without its hallmark gadget, the tech labs were also mini-factories for manufacturing F.R.E.E.’s most important tool: **_assistive I.D. rings_ , locally known as ‘ _A.I.R_.’**. Individually moulded to fit the bearer’s fingers to the grooves of the skin and disguised as any accessory of the agent’s choice—rings, bracelets, necklaces, wristwatches, or even nothing but the nanoprojector for the holoscreen—A.I.R. made the bread and butter of communications between all operatives in the F.R.E.E. infrastructure.
> 
> Bands slipped on the fingers of the agent’s dominant hand would activate with a snap to summon the holoscreen to display agent credentials, personal vitals, mission dossier, recommended gadgets, an identification generator for undercover personas, and more. The only equipment able to detect an A.I.R. is another one, making group missions or recon convenient and enemy infiltration scarce. An A.I.R. could only be removed by its agent, was a sign of loyalty, and thus a guarantee of protection from F.R.E.E. until voluntary retirement.

[ _Level 3: General Debriefing._ ]

> Commonly referred to as Gen among F.R.E.E. agents, level three housed the Dash: an electronic bulletin with mission requests as free game for any capable agent. It was the most visited out of the four main floors, since agents wanted to see their paycheque at the end of the month—the rewards an agent reaped fit the number and calibre of missions an agent took on. Gen laid base for scoring higher in the monthly fitness and aptitude tests in the Training Hall, and latest mission achievements would decorate an agent’s dossier for promotion.

[ _Level 4: Higher Debriefing._ ]

> Coined as Elite within F.R.E.E. walls, level four contained the most rarely visited rooms next to the boss’s own quarters. Level four was a rendezvous for jet set agents, providing the lynchpin for F.R.E.E.’s plentiful funding through few top-priority, high-reward missions all personally directed by the chief. Given that they were few and far in-between, only the crème de la crème of F.R.E.E. operatives were given a chance to fulfil Elite missions.

For Haruka, it simply was another mission for another day.

The elevator rotated open so cool air rushed in to grace his skin. He walked out of the pod and down the corridor, approaching a double, white door with a handprint overlaying a screen installed beside the hinges.

He brought his right hand up and pressed it into the scanner, letting his A.I.R. respond to the tactile information. After an affirmative beep, the double doors slid open to three men waiting inside.

“Good job, Haru-chan, you’re early!”

Haruka let nothing show at the eager wave as he entered the pristine room, calmly regarding the blonde, baby-faced man who looked dangerously young to sit behind the spartan desk. His eyes were round, pink and wild, always having a brilliant shine that belonged better in the tech labs. Somehow, his suit seemed to be tailored for his larger-than-life movements; the A.I.R. on his waving hand was a vivid yellow like the tie at his chest, nearly blinding like his unfettered smile. Though first impressions invited nothing but wariness, the perceptive spark that lingered in his gaze always warranted reconsideration. Like your every move and secret was already kept in his big, bounding heart.

> Hazuki Nagisa; Chief of F.R.E.E.

“Sometimes I dare wonder how you became the head of this agency, Hazuki-san,” a proud, blue-haired man adjusted his glasses with a tired sigh. When he crossed his arms over his periwinkle lab coat, they revealed his eyes, violet and calculating behind his red glasses that shone in the cold light. “For you to so flippantly request a _lip-reading_ installation to only pester Nanase-san is beyond me.”

“It’s called having a little _fun_ , Rei-chan!” Nagisa pouted. “It’s not like Haru-chan minded so much either,“ he said, turning his chair back to grin sweetly. ”Right, Haru-chan?"

“It was a nuisance,” Haruka responded, allowing a small shrug. “But just that.”

“ _See_? Haru-chan’s cool!“ he announced with some victory, swivelling back for Rei’s attention to chide with crossed arms. ”And what did I tell you about calling me Hazuki-san?”

Rei was already in disdain, focusing on the data streaming past his glasses; faint, neon blue patterns drifted over the lenses as he pinched a single navigational dial on the hinge of the red rim. His eyes went fast over the information, skimming and processing as he mumbled deductions at an incoherent speed. On the outside, he seemed to mirror Nanase’s cold demeanour; detached and shrewd.

“—Rei-chan, listen to _me_ …!” Nagisa moaned.

All too easily, his cool guise cracked with a twitch of his brow as the neon data faltered. Suddenly he was rounding on Nagisa with his fists at his sides, his face morphed into a profusely expressive irritation, which made him leagues more engaging in an instant.

“Could you possibly let _some_ of us get to business?”

> Ryuugazaki Rei; Lead Scientist of F.R.E.E.

“Not until you finally start calling me Nagisa-chan!” he huffed, crossing his arms defiantly. “We’ve known each other long enough!”

“Even if that may be, the manner in which I address you is a matter of _status_ , as well as unimportant,” Rei reminded, his tone clipped as he turned on the dial at his glasses. “Besides, while Nanase-san may be graciously used to your inane drivel, he wasn’t summoned to bear witness to your domestic whinging.”

“Not even Nagisa- _kun_?”

Rei spun around, his data off again. “ _Do you even listen to me_?!”

“Okay, compromise!” Nagisa bopped his palm with the side of his fist, brimming with triumph. “ _Hazuki_ -kun! Even _you’d_ be okay with that, right?”

“ _Fine_ , Hazuki- _kun_!” Rei threw his hands up, a peeved blush working over his features. “Must you bring this up _now_ of all times?!”

“Hehe, soon I’ll get you to call me _Nagisa_ -kun again!” he rubbed his hands, cackling happily.

“I ought to subject you to experimentation down at the tech labs…!” Rei blustered, his threat falling short as he had to shove his glasses up in place. “ _First draft_ trials!”

“But you have before, remember? And it was _fun_!” Nagisa hummed giddily. “First time in _ages_ I got to work a flamethrower again~!”

“It was a _sub_ -zero _nitro-rime_ -thrower and that is _not_ the salient _point_ —!”

“Um, gentlemen…?”

A kind voice heralded a wash of calm over the heated room, as a third man took a diffident step from behind Nagisa’s chair. No one had to turn in order for the room to fall into quiet again, but Haruka’s eyes were already trained on him. He had a rich green tie to go with his black suit, tailored to his broad-shouldered form. It could have been a joke how the most tall, muscular man in the room invited the least attention, and needed even less to placate the bickering. Black leather dossiers were tucked at his elbow as he tilted his head, the fluorescent light making his olive hair lighter and his green eyes shinier as they crinkled in a lovely, patient smile.

“I think we should start the debriefing,” he suggested, his large, free hand reaching to his chest pocket to draw out a pair of black, semi-rimless glasses. “Haru has been waiting quite a while, after all.”

> Tachibana Makoto; Secretary of F.R.E.E.

“…Of course, Tachibana-san,” Rei nodded, standing straight again as he adjusted his glasses. “Forgive my discourtesy.”

“ _Fineee_ ,” Nagisa huffed, sinking back into his grey leather chair. “Only ‘cause Mako-chan asked so nicely.”

A warm smile graced Makoto’s features while he put on his glasses, evidently pleased that everyone was getting along again. He looked up to meet Haruka’s eyes, hard and blue on his soft and green. He blinked once in curiosity, but then gave another warm twinkle, and inclined his head with a tactful subtlety.

_You’re welcome._

The reassurance was not pretentious in the least, but Haruka diverted his attention away all the same.

“Now Haru-chan, I _would_ skip your overview and go straight to the mission outline,” Nagisa explained as he held his hand beside his head, lolling back as Makoto promptly slotted one of his thicker dossiers into his grip. “But then Rei-chan would get mad at me…” he sighed, flicking it open as Rei visibly bristled at the side.

“It is a _customary_ procedure which _all_ agents must go through before pledging to or undertaking any mission, no matter how well acquainted we are with Nanase-san.” he reminded tersely.

“ _See_?” Nagisa huffed, nudging at Rei’s splutter demonstratively as he stopped the fluttering pages with his thumb. “I’m gonna change the rules up by the time you get back though. Make it less boring,” he nodded with promise. “Alright, here we go!”

Haruka stood in reserved poise as Nagisa started to read, planting his elbows on the desk.

“Nanase Haruka, age twenty-two with five years of service: one in Gen and four in Elite,” Nagisa listed off, fingering the corner of the page. “Currently ranked at one hundredth percentile averaged out from August’s fitness tests. Notable achievements include the Takumi-gumi drug cartel, recon work in Myanmar, preventing grand sabotage in the Helsinki Olympics, thwarting an assassination attempt on the President of Japan…”

He started to mumble and rock his head from side to side, flicking over each page filled with past feats. Haruka kept diligent attention as he nodded with an impressed pout, trailing off into silence in reading his file.

“— _basically_ you’re the best ever, Haru-chan, so you’re _definitely_ fit for duty!” Nagisa announced with a proud grin, shutting the dossier as Rei barely held back a groan. “ _Now_ for the mission outline,” he chimed, lacing his fingers together to rest his chin. “Can’t let you pledge before you know what it is, after all!”

He brought out his right hand, and his A.I.R. flashed with a sharp snap. A translucent screen emerged to suspend in the air, filling the room with its yellow glow as a vivid cherry blossom tree against white materialised on its display.

“A painting?” Makoto tilted his head, regarding the wooden frame outlining the holograph. “It’s beautiful…”

“Sakura: the latest masterpiece discovered to take the art world by storm!” he affirmed with a grin, his A.I.R. flickering at his fingers as he twirled his hand, letting the virtual painting spin. “Painted by the late Utsumi, it’s a hit with the critics so far!”

“Th-This piece is remarkable! A beautiful marriage of abstract and painterly…” Rei murmured excitedly, and Haruka glanced over to his glasses shining blue with data. “She kept the richness in her paint strokes while maintaining the essence of the subject, a feat which comes with no small ease! And the composition, while effective from its simplicity, _flawlessly_ executes a wondrous—”

“Nanase-san, what do you suppose?” Makoto prompted lightly, bringing Haruka’s attention back to the floating painting and away from Rei’s mumbling about ‘an excellent use of negative space’.

“Ooh, that’s right! Haru-chan used to paint, didn’t he?” Nagisa realised with an impressed gasp, leaning forward expectantly. “So how about it?” he asked innocently, the holoscreen painting a yellow sheen on his pink eyes. “Think you can put a price on this?”

Haruka let his brows furrow in a mix of thought and irritation. He still painted long enough to know that Sakura was technically masterful, and a beautiful piece of art. Although the notion that Utsumi’s expression be made out into judgement of profit stirred some distaste, so he answered with his usual conduct:

“It’s a well done painting, but I wouldn’t know.”

“Honest as ever, Haru-chan!” Nagisa threw his hands out, beaming cheerfully. “That’s why you’re my favourite!”

“Although, when you ask about it,” Makoto murmured, admiring the strokes of the virtual cherry blossoms. “I can’t help but wonder how much it is.”

“Glad you asked, Mako-chan!” Nagisa looked back, spinning his chair around so he was facing Rei. “Rei-chan, if you please?”

“One hundred and fifty million dollars,” Rei confirmed, clicking his glasses hinge as a mini cherry blossom floated by his lenses. “U.S.”

The number **150,000,000** popped up in bold, overlapping the holograph while virtual confetti streamed from the centre.

“ _Bingo_ ~!” Nagisa clapped in content. “After unpacking a transferral from the Vatican Museums to the Louvre, the painting wasn’t found in the shipment,” he explained, letting out a sigh as he put his hands over his chest. “The trade-off was publicised a lot, so the guys were _super_ panicked when they contacted,” he recalled sadly. He sat up to clench his fists, and a fire burst back in his eyes. “So this is gonna be a speedy retrieval mission!”

“So who intercepted it?” Makoto asked. On the side, Haruka refrained from his own comment.

Nagisa waved his hand to the left, and the cherry blossom portrait breezed past. A photo of a little card arrived in its place, dashed off with a loud red marker that seemed to bounce off the room’s walls.

“It’s in English…” Makoto peered at the image, then raised his brows. “…‘ _RAIN_ ’?”

Haruka realised he had never heard of anyone with the name. He could already see Rei thumbing his dial with a frown.

“Yup!” Nagisa confirmed with a nod. “They cause trouble from time to time, but I wouldn’t say he’s a _gangster_ ,” Nagisa tapped his chin, pouting thoughtfully. “More like a thief, or even a _villain_!”

“—Thief would be the more appropriate term,” Rei cut in, cupping his chin while colours streamed over his glasses. “I’m searching up incidents that are similar to the one we’re dealing with presently, and there are a few instances of theft that have not been widely covered. They’ve stolen treasures from various museums, even breaching strongholds for either jewels or art that have not seen recuperation yet, however these instances of larceny are few and far in between.”

“Yup!” Nagisa tapped the side his nose. “And?”

“Same M.O. in every case,” Rei continued. “A single calling card: ‘RAIN’ in messy, red capitals with a…” he squinted. “— _crudely_ doodled shark,” he wrinkled his nose. “In lieu of the ‘A’. Otherwise, nothing else is left at their scenes.”

Haruka stared down the calling card with intense scrutiny, as if it were made to be engraved into his mind. The scrawl was a fiery, shameless red—splattered in an ink that resembled a burning blood. The very doodle added to the bold challenge, daring anyone to try to recuperate the treasure they had taken.

He found himself hooked.

“Fast as always, Rei-chan!” Nagisa lauded, twirling his chair so he faced Haruka standing at attention again. “But the thing is, no one’s been able to I.D. them _ever_!” he whined in disbelief, throwing his arms up.

“No record at all…?” Makoto asked, frowning at the oddity. It was almost a joke, to suggest someone could avoid even partial identification in this day and age.

“Mhm…” Nagisa’s shoulders slumped. “No one’s seen or contacted Rain before, so most people’ve never heard of them either. Like Rei said, their thefts weren’t covered a lot because the things they stole aren’t really heard of,” Nagisa pouted, sighing at the inconvenience. “This Rain villain’s super thorough, too—not a single clue apart from their calling card, and even their _calling_ card is completely clean!”

“This is the first instance I have learned about Rain’s exploits,” Rei admitted, intensely studying obscure case reports through his glasses. “For them to elude captivity while usually drawing next to no attention is astonishing,” he remarked, nodding slightly. “Befitting of a master thief, really.”

“Yeah, I’m impressed, but it makes the mission really hard if we don’t know _anything_ about them,” Nagisa muttered, pulling his lip to the side as he crossed his arms. “Their face, name, age, favourite T.V. show, flavoured _ice cream_ —” he lolled his head back, closing his eyes in a dramatic sigh. “We got nothing!”

Makoto and Rei’s disappointed sighs followed, but Haruka caught Nagisa cracking an eye open. A mischief glittered in them as he smirked.

“—past tense.”

He snapped his finger up again, and a yellow globe popped up from his A.I.R.. He flicked his hand out, and the region borders squiggled themselves into place as the map magnified. A violet marker pulsed at the East of Asia where the display zoned in.

“You found them…?” Haruka muttered.

“I _found_ ‘em~ ” Nagisa sung.

“That’s good,” Makoto commented with good humour, eyeing the label ‘Tottori’ growing while ‘Japan’ faded past. “Though I don’t think you would assign a mission without a substantial lead first, anyway.”

“That would be too much of a joke, even for you.” Rei scoffed, adjusting the brightness of his data.

“Mako-chan’s right, and Rei-chan’s mean,” Nagisa said, leaning closer to the floating screen. “Lemme just zoom _in_...” Nagisa chewed on his tongue, turning his to focus the map on a dot a ways away from the edge of land. “—they’re about a hundred miles off the coast of Iwatobi!”

“That’s quite low-key for an assumed headquarters…” Rei muttered. He thumbed the bridge of his glasses, and a burst of light flickered along his vision. “Rain took refuge and claimed their own fortress on that isle?”

“Seems so!” Nagisa shrugged, brushing his hand so a tower came into bird’s eye view. “A _castle_ on a remote island, with a _great_ view and a _bunch_ of treasure inside,” he sunk his chin into his palm, sighing wistfully. “If they weren’t stealing stuff and Haru-chan wasn’t gonna bust them, I’d definitely admire Rain’s taste—”

“How did you find them?”

Everyone turned to Haruka’s quiet, clear voice.

“How did I find them?” Nagisa parroted, voice lilting with his head.

“There were no traces at the scene to give us any leads,” Haruka reasoned, gaze unmoving from Nagisa’s. “But you found them anyway.”

The others blinked.

“I thought you used your connections?” Makoto turned to Nagisa chewing a blooming grin. “You asked me to patch through some contacts earlier, after all.”

“…I must admit,” Rei chimed in, frowning in some confusion at Haruka’s attention. “That is what I assumed as well…”

“Well, you heard them,” Nagisa brought his hands up in innocence, leaning back into his chair as the map glowed between them. “I could have used my connections, Haru-chan.”

“Not possible,” Haruka cut in, his stare level while Makoto and Rei started to frown in thought. “You said that no one has ever seen or contacted Rain, so no one could tell you their location.”

“That…” Rei brought his hand up, slowly tracing his chin. “Is true…”

“Also,” Haruka continued, and Nagisa’s brow rose again. “Retrieval missions for theft go in Gen, no matter how high recompense is.”

“…Now…that you mention it…” Makoto brought his fingers to his lips, while Nagisa’s stretched into a pleased smile. “This _is_ the first time I’ve seen theft being outlined in Elite…”

“Is everyone catching on now…?” Nagisa looked around in inquisition, turning back to Haruka’s scrutiny with an impeachable grin.

“How did you find them?”

“…Y’know,” Nagisa pressed his fingers together, brushing the tips by his fond smile. “You really _are_ my favourite, Haru-chan.”

“H-Hazuki-kun…” Rei’s hand fell from his chin, his expression wrenching from a growing shock. “Surely you’re not… _insinuating_ that you’re involved with this—!”

“— _Whaaat_?” Nagisa swivelled around, his call pitched with disbelief. “I’m not on the other _team_ or anything, Rei-chan!” he protested, crossing his arms in affront. “I just wanted to get to the interesting part of the mission, that’s all!”

Haruka looked back to the map, estimating the size of the island was as any built-up tension crumbled into awkwardness.

“O- _Oh_ , I—” Rei coughed suddenly. Haruka just wondered if he could swim when this was all done. “Forgive me, Nagi— _Hazuki_ -kun, I never thought—for a _moment_ it seemed like—”

“You thought I was a _traitor_ , didn’t you?“ Nagisa accused, jaw hanging with offence. ”That’s so _mean_!”

Haruka, aloof to the bickering, glanced at Makoto, who only sighed with an amiable smile.

“N- _No_ , I _assure_ you, but,” Rei fumbled with his words, hastily pressing his glasses. “You gave—th-that _is_ to say, a… _temporary_ …” he waved his arms, his eyes searching the ceiling and Nagisa’s sulk for his explanation. “— _Impression_. That was _somewhat_ sinister and implicated—”

“ _Sinister_?!” Nagisa cried, clapping the knot of his tie like there were pearls to clutch. “ _Me_ , Rei-chan?!”

“— _Oh_ well you’re not _innocent_!” Rei stomped in a fluster, fists bunched at his sides.

“M-M- _Mako-chan_ …!” Nagisa sniffled loudly, brows scrunched and eyes welling. “Rei-chan, he…he called me _sinister_ …!”

“Honestly…” Rei sighed, crossing his arms to the side while Makoto tried to soothe Nagisa. “All these theatrics for a _mission_ outline…”

“To be fair, Nagisa-kun,” Makoto patted the top of his chair with a sheepish smile. “Leaving out details for our speculation to how, uh, _diabolic_ you might be,” he chuckled. “ _Was_ a little unnecessary.”

“ _Hmph_ ,” Nagisa turned his chair away, puffing his cheeks. “I guess my flair’s unappreciated then…” he sighed, but his pout instantly vanished into a huge grin as he looked up to Haruka. “But I’m glad Haru-chan passed my little test, like always!” he clapped in praise, leaning back to spot Rei out of the corner of his eye. “You two could do with taking a leaf out of his book, you know!”

Rei and Makoto sighed like parents indulging their child, while Haruka contemplated Nagisa’s puckish grin with a blank regard.

“So how did you find them?”

Nagisa pulled the map into tighter focus with a clench of his fist, and his cheeky expression settled into a much more docile, pursed lip. Makoto and Rei looked to each other, silently asking about Nagisa’s sudden deliberation.

“…An A.I.R.”

A tension washed over the room.

“What…?” Makoto mumbled. Rei’s gasp stopped short when he hastily checked his glasses.

“I was _going_ to put this into Gen when I was sorting out new missions,” Nagisa cocked his head, crossing his arms with a rapt frown. “But then I got an A.I.R.’s emergency signal, and it showed me this map.”

Haruka studied the holograph more acutely, a frown etching into his smooth features.

If they had discovered the location of the prime suspect in the theft of the most priceless artwork to grace the world as of late—through a damaged A.I.R., no less…that could only mean…

“An agent,” Makoto murmured. “Someone’s defected?”

“That’s what I thought too, Mako-chan, but it’s in critical condition,” Nagisa swayed in his chair, his focus trained on the purple marker. “It was wiped except for the emergency locator. Name, code, contact; everything’s gone,” he explained, leaning his arms back on the table so his chin rested on his fist. “The camera only worked for a few seconds before it switched off, but I kept the footage.”

“And you saw Sakura appear, didn’t you…” Rei surmised.

Kidnapping, subversion, hostage, accident, coincidence, missing—possibilities raced through Haruka’s mind one by one. But nothing in the room shifted.

“Whatever it is,” Nagisa interjected. “Our agent has to be in a tricky situation right now, so we’re definitely gonna work on it, and help them out! After all…” his mouth hung mid-sentence. His bright eyes softened. “It could be what we’ve been waiting for…”

In the years of F.R.E.E.’s operation, a handful of agents went M.I.A., and this recorded the only instance where an A.I.R. submitted a distress signal without its respective agent. If the worst had not come to pass…

Could someone be saved?

“— _So_!” Nagisa broke the silence in a clap, jostling everything in the room save for Haruka’s poise. “Here’s the mission outline, Haru-chan,” he brought two fingers up in a peace sign. “We have two objectives: first, we need to get Sakura back,” he said, pushing his forefinger back. “Since the curators are super worried that people’ll find out it’s been stolen, that needs to be our number one priority,” he wiggled his middle finger. “The second one is—”

“To find the missing agent…” Makoto finished softly, worry seeping through his professionalism—in the clutch of his dossier, the furrow of his brow.

“I apologise for the coldness of my following remark,” Rei commented tentatively, adjusting his glasses with the tiniest prod. “But it would be more fruitful if we focused on retrieving the A.I.R. for necessary repairs, first.”

“Rei-chan’s right. The second objective is to get back the broken A.I.R.,” Nagisa followed up, affording a less bold, more sympathetic smile. “I know we can fix it with everyone at tech labs’ help, and then we can find out who it belongs to.”

“O- _Oh_ , I understand!” Makoto looked surprised before inclining his head. “I was just talking to myself, that’s all.”

“It’s okay, Mako-chan!” the corners of Nagisa’s eyes crinkled with his beam. “We’ll find the missing agent in the end! For now, we’ll have to believe they can handle themselves. _Now_ , Haru-chan!” his chair soundlessly revolved around. He navigated to another page on his A.I.R.—the mission acceptance form. Filled with bullet points and the day’s date, Haru felt a familiar anticipation build up within him, as a well-known fire brewed in the crescent of Nagisa’s teeth. “Are you willing to pledge to this mission?”

Haruka promptly let go of his wrist at his back with a quiet snap; the holoscreen appearing from his fingers glowed a soft, sky blue. “Yes.”

“And you guys, too?” Nagisa looked around him—on his right to Rei, and on his left to Makoto. “We’ll need everyone’s support to succeed, after all!”

“Of course!” Rei announced in a near scoff, a holoscreen flourishing from his glasses in a royal violet. “I daresay my pledge to this mission should go unsaid, even!”

“Me too,” Makoto nodded dutifully, tapping his wristwatch twice so a mint holoscreen popped into the air. “I want to give all the support I can provide, for as long as I can.”

Nagisa’s laughter bubbled. “Let’s go, then!”

He made an upward flick on his screen, and incoming messages appeared on each of their A.I.R.s—the pledge was no terms and services; it did not state the obvious prerequisites of keeping mission information confidential, of only working with colleagues directly involved with said mission, or any legalities. The pledge was only one sentence that dominated the holoscreen.

  * As an agent of F.R.E.E., I, _Nanase Haruka_ , pledge to commit to this mission until all its objectives see completion.



Everyone ticked their screens, and the display transitioned. Pinching their thumb and pointer fingers, the team inputted their respective signatures.

“ _Yosh_ , pledge _completed_ ~!” Nagisa clapped his hands, shutting off his enlarged holoscreen so the room reverted to its white lighting. “No need for intel period this time, so it’s… _1104_ hours now—I’ll look over archived dossiers to see who we might be getting back!”

“I’ll arrange transport,” Makoto informed, adjusting the knob on his wristwatch so airplane models slid on and off his holoscreen next to a map of the targeted area.

“I shall allocate the required gadgets post-haste,” Rei supplied without delay, tapping the dial on his glasses. A list bursting with weapons stats refined itself at light speeds, determining what dispatch was necessary for the mission. “Please follow me, Nanase-san. As per usual, you’ll be receiving the smart Kevlar suit, which has seen a few upgrades in comfort along with more superior bulletproof protection against smaller calibre rounds, as well as—”

“Ah, please wait a moment, Ryuugazaki-san,” Makoto raised his hand. “I’ve just found there aren’t proper landing sites on the island Nanase-san’s going to, but there’s a convenient opening where the crags give way to a beach. So…”

Haruka’s eyes grew alight at Makoto’s genial smile.

“I understand,” Rei nodded, having long lost surprise at the following adjustments his data made. “I’ll make sure to provide waterproofing as well.”

“ _Now_ Haru-chan’s excited!” Nagisa remarked happily, already scrolling through categories of past agents on his holoscreen. “When you come back, I’ll keep the pools open just for you!”

Haruka gave an appreciative nod, before heading for the tech labs with Rei.

The promise of water left an undeniable excitement to seep into Haruka’s bones, but among other things—details of the mission streamed through his mind as he left the debriefing room, not leaving his mind for a second whilst Rei animatedly described each gadget he was readying to use.

Sakura was a simple, startling beauty within the possession of someone who shot up to the top of F.R.E.E.’s wanted list. There were no clues, no traces, no leads to the resolution that he would have to find for this mission—save for a taunting summon from a faceless thief, and an A.I.R. in critical condition without its agent.

As the elevator pod descended into its tract, Haruka’s thoughts swirled with red.


	2. Samezuka Isle


    LOCATION: Unnamed Island, Tottori, Japan
    TIME: 1330 hours, September 26, 22XX
    
    

Over the treetops on a secluded isle, a sleek tower rose high into the blue skies. Pointed windows encircled the glossy walls, spiralling up so they wreathed the impressive building like a coil. Its stark exterior and granite colour reflected the fashionably minimalist architecture, but the smooth surface at the top of the fortress housed a notably different room—a windowless office with a decidedly more classic atmosphere, with a silver chandelier dangling from its high ceiling. Coupled with tall, wide bookshelves, backing a mahogany desk with an antique leather chair fitted with wheels, the massive quarters resembled an office of Victorian days.

Sure, there were clashing elements—hot pink lava lamps, faux tiger skin carpeting, not to mention that the side walls were not walls but actually red-lit aquariums with baby killer sharks inside, displaying the most bizarre union of olden, modern, and garish decor. But the man slouching back into his antique rolling chair—feet up on his mahogany desk, lazily admiring the painting framed above his sturdy, 256-bit encrypted doors—seemed to take everything in bliss.

And contrary to his lackadaisical impression, the young man was in deep ponderation. A philosophical dwelling, if you will, of what it meant to be in his profession. And through the journey of his brown study, he determined a guideline, of sorts.

Any thief who is deserving of the title requires a few things.

Of course, the first of first things is to love yourself—be a little selfish. Feel the need to spoil yourself with the luxuries you don’t have yet. Then it’s to flush down empathy, get some sticky fingers, and be comfortable with dishonesty, competent in thievery, and knowledgable in the black market—otherwise the door to a safe, hard-working, mind-numbingly-boring life was just around the corner.

But to actually start, determining what items the thief would be interested in stealing is an essential. Commodities, targets, objects of interest—as long as they were in demand and reasonably profitable, it’d be smart, fair game. So something like hand-carved knick-knacks from the ass-end of nowhere wouldn’t roll in the green, so that’d be a no-no.

However, something like, say, high-end, cutting-edge technology that no one but ridiculously high up higher-ups are able to access until its release years in the future? That’d be a double thumbs-up.

Take SexTech v4, for example. A whole new array of voice-commands, automatic lubing and cleaning action, G-spot/prostate-locating technology with dynamic dildo-sizing—all possible through more colour options, better handling, and _two whole kilograms_ lighter than SexTech v2.6!

For this example, it exercises many of the thief’s ideal traits: a sensible amount of impatience. For one, who would wait three years until SexTech v4 came out? Not the self-respecting, time-savvy thief, that’s for sure. And second, it tests a thief’s amount of preparation, setting themselves up for opportunity when they least expect it—said thief was only browsing the world famous sex toy factories not even a month ago (under a guise, as a given), and who would imagine some smartly placed, undetectable bugs (handily stolen a year prior) would report about the gift that was SexTech v4? Certainly not the thief—honestly, it would be like a present to themselves.

Really, when they choose to go after tech that won’t see release until a long way down the way—as in ten, twenty years when said thief’ll be too bloated from all the good food and hot sex they’ll’ve had frequently enjoyed for those past ten or twenty years—and it’s all too confidential for anyone in the works to actually report to authorities that just one measly prototype and final blueprint of SexTech v4 went missing in a stock count. The aspiring thief would positively leap at the opportunity.

Not planning to be released till ten years down the line (since SexTech v3 is planned for five), SexTech v4 is truly the sexually active low-profile thief’s soon-to-be friend. Just ensure that you have the means to carry out the final touches—like asking some nobody who happens to be good with tech to piece together the product with the offer of one fun-filled night, and voilà! Truly, smart investments like SexTech v4 would do any mindful thief some good.

Ah, but to be _mindful_ —that was the most important thing, in the end. A good thief would always clean up after themselves—in connections and relations as much as potentially incriminating evidence (so at this point the nameless techie would’ve been taken care of, as a given). Also, just manners in general: leave a calling card, drop a hint. Don’t just take and turn tail, give some notice that you’ve been around. After all, to be mindful of the recipients your thievery is important in itself—like the way of wild, take what prey to supply yourself, then leave it alone. Sure, you can take a _whole_ stock of DNA and human genome database oriented security systems, but in the end you only have one base of goods and toys to protect, so why be greedy?

Which brings up the second thing—which thinking about it, should’ve been the first thing, but the thief should know that when there’s a will there’s a way—a base. The good thief should find somewhere secluded; free from distractions, worries, troubles—and be as hard as _fuck_ to find. An island 161 kilometres (or 100 miles if you wanted to sound snappier or somehow still used the imperial system) off the coast of some small fishing town? A+ grounds to make the most lush fortress from the profits of the thief’s lucrative pursuits (so in the end, a fort does come second).

But the most important thing while perfecting your art was to enjoy yourself—have fun, kick back, _relax_. And no law saying you _have_ to stick with your category of goods to steal anyhow! Sure, going after never-before-seen tech to decorate the stronghold is always exciting, but somewhere along the way, there will always be other temptations.

Say, a painting.

Of course, it would have to be an exquisite, wondrous, _gorgeous_ painting to catch your fancy. However, in the end, there will be that _one_ that comes along—glowing bright when you browse the latest 3DNews, and it twirls in its virtual, holographic form like a tantalising, cherry-blossomed temptress, and the familiar itch in your fingers rolls back—a _proclamation_ in your thieving heart that screams body and soul, ‘I _want_ that’.

“Shit,” Rin scoffed, lolling back in his chair, hands comfortably laced over his trim stomach as he gazed fondly at Sakura. “I should write a book.”

The antique chair reclined to his movements, turning out to be not so antique as the padding increased to cushion his head, so he was lying down to stare at his glass ceiling—from inside was the best view of the cloudless heavens that only he could enjoy. He closed his eyes for a peace-filled breath, basking in the glow of his untouchable success.

He didn’t notice a patch in the sky shimmering faintly.

* * *

Only the sound of whirring rotor blades gave away the invisible chopper hovering five kilometres above the fortress. The surrounding air distorted like heat waves, and inside the pilotless craft Haruka was seated, lightly unscrewing a contact lens case.

Dipping his finger into the solution, he pulled out a thin, clear glass with white lines flickering over its surface. His fingers were steady as he guided the first lens into his right eye, which accepted the membrane unblinkingly. After seeing that the lounge of the helicopter was clear as ever, then he rolled his knuckles to call up the time.

“Selective viewing.”

[ _Lens pairing complete._ ]

A small holoscreen popped up displaying the time: ‘1332’. Sure enough when he closed his right eye, his left would see nothing but the back of his hand.

After fitting the left lens, he looked out the helicopter window. The flat, half-oval top of the fortress mirrored the clear blue sky, along with the distorted patch in the middle where the helicopter was directly above. While white arrows dashed across his contact lenses to outline the building, Haruka chewed his lip.

“Two-way mirror…” he murmured under his breath, looking up to the holoscreen displaying the surrounding map—two minutes till destination. “Camo, report.”

««  _Rochester Cloak working at 75% percent efficiency_ »» the holoscreen displayed the helicopter Haruka was in, then fading its shape to an image of heat waves. ««  _Operating refractive index at 1.13; checkup recommended_ »»

“It isn’t fixed…” he remarked, frowning. He snapped up his A.I.R. and pointed to the module. The usually transparent bands on his fingers started to glow blue, pulsing as Haruka allowed it to transfer the data to send back to HQ. “Altitude, report.”

««  _Currently 5,000 metres above sea level_ »»

“Lower to 4,600,” he commanded calmly. After his A.I.R. had finished transfer, he patted the chest of his suit. “Final gadget check.”

His A.I.R. glowed again, this time the blue lights surged towards the pads of his fingers—for each piece of equipment his A.I.R. touched, a new status report would type itself onto the holoscreen.

[ _Checking SmartSuit v5….fibres contracting…_ ] Haruka felt the texture of his suit jacket shift under his palm. [ _Slash-proofing, engaged; temperature adjusters, engaged; bulletproofing, engaged; waterproofing, engaged._ ]

He lightly pulled open the lapel of his suit, digging through the gadgets he kept on his person. His fingers skimmed over a butterfly knife that doubled as a taser.

[ _Water-Resistant ShockBlade, ready for usage._ ]

Sliding past, his palm brushed over a small gun—loaded with bullets to stun or kill, and EM frequency emitters to disable machinery with minimal recoil, the safety could only be disabled when it came in close contact with his A.I.R.

[ _Semi-Auto Disruptor, ready for usage._ ]

Finally, he’d found the gadget he’d been looking for—he pulled out an innocuous spray that looked like cologne, and shook it once to make the nozzle pop out.

[ _Nano-lysing Calorassorbi Deodorant, ready for usage._ ]

Haruka held his breath while spraying around his neck, and the overhead holoscreen signalled two minutes till destination. After the mist had settled, he tested it by picking up the glass of water that had been at his armrest. He splashed the water onto his face, only for it to quickly steam and leave the scent of fresh oxygen instead of actually wetting him.

“Works…” he muttered, sighing at how dry he felt after he sprayed on some more onto his hair.

««  _Currently 4,600 metres above sea level; 20 seconds until destination_ »»

Filing the aftershave in the inside of the jacket, he picked up the parachute beside his seat and shouldered it on. After fastening it on he stood upright, loosening his blue tie from his throat as he put his hand to the helicopter door. Light pulsed through his A.I.R. at the contact, and the door slid open so the rushing air billowed through his tame hair, and his vision was met with the beach he would swim to, and a wide, waiting expanse of blue.

“Activate HALO timer and BluPrinter,” he spoke aloud, his AIR colourless but gently warming his fingers.

««  _10 seconds until destination_ »»

Haruka squinted through the hard gales, his hair and suit blowing back as two holoscreens came on: one live-tracking his altitude with points along a trail to direct when to release his parachute, and the other displaying a live feed from his contact lens capture, signalling when it would record the building shape to intuit floor numbers and security fittings.

««  _5 seconds until destination_ »»

The wind was deafening. As the programs fired up, a familiar adrenaline nestled itself into Haruka’s bones. He braced the sides of the helicopter door and leaned himself back like a slingshot.

««  _4_ »»

««  _3_ »»

Waiting at the edge, the endless ocean reflected in his eyes.

««  _2_ »»

Haruka leapt from his cage.

««  _1_ »»

Arms drawing together—

««  _Arrived at destination_ »»

He plunged for the sea.

* * *

If he had any sense of shame, Rin would’ve probably double-checked whether it was okay to wake up at midday, have some fun with his SexTech, feel comfortably sore as he dozed off again, and decide to study his latest baby to grace his home an hour later.

But shame had no place in his lifestyle, which was a comfortable fuck-all attitude after a good workout of a theft.

He’d forgone changing out of his favourite nightgown—a silk, maroon, tiger-striped pyjama suit with the buttons open—leaving his toned, pale chest open and his clean feet bare on his desk. He hadn’t even bothered to deal with his hair—locks stuck out like a wild flame on his head, framing his pearly, sharp-toothed grin of content as his red eyes shone with delight.

To Rin, this was the life: a roller coaster of thrill and hedonism that only went up, up and up. And with Sakura, it was greed at first sight—his pact to maintain a low-profile shuddered, and crumbled with the majesty that graced the blank wall above his door that was just waiting to be filled.

Granted, there were some annoyances—his radar had spotted some undercover rats creeping around Samezuka Isle (the name he’d given his little hideout) to try to retrieve Sakura. Such were the disadvantages of bringing back such a high-stake target.

“Ah, well,” he sighed, awash with tranquility as he rocked his head back, enjoying the view again. “You’re more than worth the trouble, ya pink beauty, you.”

* * *

As soon as the wind stopped whistling past Haruka’s ears and the water smoothly received him, the gadgets had set into motion.

Upon entry, the area around his head had started to churn with bubbles, and long after the wake of his dive. The SmartSuit and Calorassorbi had essentially made him fit for living in water: the SmartSuit had heightened in temperature and morphed to cling to his skin, mimicking the slippery texture of his swimsuits and keeping him comfortable. The nano-bots in the deodorant kept water splitting constant, maintaining a generous air bubble surrounding his face. Coupled with the bottom of his parachute pack opening up to launch mini-turbine propellors, the two hundred metres to the coastline became a cool, easy swim.

When he’d surfaced at the beach, the suit promptly rustled as it met air, sending water flying off Haruka like a dog shaking itself dry. After anchoring the now cumbersome backpack to the shore, he analysed the data he’d collected during his free fall.

With that, there were two important stats Haruka’s lenses brought in earlier: with his available gadgets and the architecture, he wouldn’t be able to scale the building, but the blueprints had detailed a hi-speed elevator pod. Also, the only human present in the building was on the top floor.

Which meant another two things.

First: the fastest way to the top was through the doors and via the elevator pod. Even though that meant stealth would be out of the question, Haruka remained unfazed—being versatile, he could operate directly or discreetly without issue.

Second: whoever was waiting at the top was the missing agent, Rain, or both.

Haruka sighed, letting out the momentary frustration in his chest. He half-heartedly patted his wind-tousled hair as he brought up his A.I.R., which had downloaded a cursory map of the island with an approximation of where the base would be—smack bang in the centre of it.

The island didn’t have much obstructing greenery either, so in less than five minutes, he was already in comfortable eyeshot of an arch carved into the base of the building. Advancing closer to find a split down the middle, Haruka found himself nearing the main doors to the fort.

A breeze picked up, and his lenses honed in on the doors. A beeping exclamation mark caused him to frown, and the door’s borders turned an ominous red.

* * *

—[ _Intruder alert,_ ] a synthetic voice reverberated in the study, making the baby sharks swim around from the vibrations. [ _Human skin flakes caught on scanner._ _Foreign DNA traces detected._ ]

“Oh mother _fuck_ ,” Rin sat up with a growl, pushing himself with the armrests his seat pivoted around. “You shitting me?”

The shelves slid open as a pink holoscreen cast a glow on Rin’s scowl, the display transitioning to a virtual double helix glowing a cautionary red.

[ _Subject five metres from main entrance._ ]

“Five _metres_?” he spat. His jaw clenched with frustration as he slumped back, his fingers pushing back his mussed hair. No one ever got that close to his fort, and they wouldn’t get any closer. “Don’t have time for this—ID ’em. _Now_.”

[ _Genome consultation complete,_ ] the security system launched immediately. [ _Subject identified as Nanase Haruka._ ]

“Great, so not even some dude I could seduce into pissing off, fuckin’ swell,” he snarked, letting his exasperation settle as he clicked his tongue. “Could try the laser-fire guns…ah shit, just got new carpets, never mind. Just set turrets to stun.”

[ _Activating turrets; inserting stun ammo._ ]

Rin studied the holoscreen tallying the stats of the first five turrets activated, before his chair gradually spun back around to face the door. He studied Sakura again, and his admiration soothed his annoyance.

“Well aren’t you just troublesome to keep around…” he huffed tiredly, stretching up his arms to tuck them comfortably behind his bedhead. “Whatever. She’ll be out in no time.”

* * *

[ _Warning,_ ] Haruka’s A.I.R. emerged with urgency. [ _Turrets engaging inside._ ]

His contact lenses flurried with white, and the pressure sharpened.

Gritting his teeth, Haruka pulled out his semi-auto. He shoved the barrel to set it to hi-interference mode—bullets wouldn’t guarantee anything, but a disconnection would. Leaving the gun to click as he approached the door, he hovered his hand over door’s inner console. The door’s display started to dance with light as his A.I.R. started to disable the locks.

[ _256-bit encryption detected. Beginning to decrypt…_ ]

A breath pushed out of his nose—that meant he had a minute, then.

His heart kept a reassuring pace, thumping against his sternum. He stared at the tall, sliced doors head-on, unblinking as his contact lenses located the emerging turrets behind. One by one, their respective stats appeared next to their white outline.

Two left, one right, and two up top—same model, one shot to disable each. Haruka charged his semi for five.

—[ _Decryption complete._ ]

The doors disappeared into slots. Haruka stormed the front, his aim steady.

* * *

—[ _Turret 5AB3 disconnected._ ]

“Disconnected?” Rin’s brow knitted a slight, but he didn’t look away from Sakura. “The fuck, is she shutting down my—?”

[ _Turret 5AB4, 5AB5, 5AB6—_ ]

He swivelled around. “ _What_?”

[ _All launched turrets disconnected._ ]

His holoscreen showed a pictogram of the turrets, with each of their stats and diagrams crossed out in red. And that was fucking _unbelievable_ —not that he didn’t have a fucktonne more, but the fact that the punk wasn’t on the ground already…!

“Fuck me, this one’s actually _competent_ …” he sighed gruffly as he sunk back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, this is pissing me off—gimme a visual.”

[ _Retrieving Level 1 live surveillance…_ ]

* * *

Haruka gave a short exhale, the semi hot in his grip while all five turrets turned into dead weights. His lenses highlighted a router tucked behind a bullet-ridden wall, and his attention refocused from the change in speed.

He reloaded the disruptor, and took aim.

* * *

Rin’s holoscreen transitioned to black.

“Huh?” he was leaning forward again, his eyes wary. “Where the fuck is—?”

[ _Connection jammed; Level 1 surveillance unavailable._ ]

“What the— _jammed_? She couldn’t’ve—” his scowl contorted from disbelief, then into borderline fury. “Show me level two.”

[ _Connection jammed._ ]

His teeth mashed together. “Level three.”

[ _Connection jammed._ ]

“Four!”

[ _Connection jammed._ ]

“ _Five_?!”

[ _Connection jammed._ ]

“Fuck, she did,” he bit out, jamming the heel of his palm over his forehead. “ _Ugh—_ reboot surveillance router!”

[ _Rebooting…_ ]

At that point, after bending further and further forward with each call, Rin just collapsed back into his seat, because there were only _five fucking floors_ that this little shit Nanase could shut down. A foreign indignation poisoned his gut to seep into his fingers tapping on his armrest, and his blood absolutely fucking _boiled_ at this goddamn upstart passing through a line of defence.

[ _Guest access for elevator pod attempted,_ ] his holoscreen shifted to the outline of his personal pod, but the cameras were still dead. [ _Confirm access permission._ ]

“…Y’know what? Let her through.”

[ _Access granted_ ]

“… _So,_ ” he let out a harsh, mirthless laugh, his eyes glinting in a low grin. “Got a special snowflake here, huh?”

He languidly spun to face the doors again, and flattened his hands on the study desk. The table surface flickered, outlining his hands in silver before a drawer popped open on his right. The picturesque sunlight filled the study, shining on Rin’s mahogany beautifully as he pulled on a pair of clear gloves, which clung to his skin as he pulled them down. He rolled his fingers once on each hand, and the tips of his fingers hummed with a pulsing, red hue as he idly twirled back to the holoscreen.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

* * *

Haruka didn’t let go of his semi for a moment. After seeing administrator access was granted for the pod before his A.I.R. could hack it, his nerves were live wires on end.

The pod rose up smoothly with magnetic suspension, a clear glass to allow the view of each floor to pass by Haruka’s vision. He had just requested to go to the top, but in total he’d counted five floors, each one showing the view of the beach through triangular, narrow windows.

He briefly thought of the red shark, before the pod gave way to level five.

There were no cameras his lenses could detect, nor hidden compartments—just a tall, wooden double-door adorned with gold waited in front of him.

[ _Error,_ ] his holoscreen came up fizzing, and the data on his lenses blinked out. [ _Pairing with lenses disrupted. Error— pairing- - ErRoR— unable - — tO — -_ ]

Haruka nearly cursed—whatever was inside the room was messing with his tech. Though his semi didn’t act up, and that was all he needed. He loaded the disruptor for three, and its ticks were quiet as he aimed for the golden, electric knob—

“Ah ah _ah_ ~”

The doors burst open, and a seizing prison took hold of Haruka before he could react—a red beam stretched from inside the study to his chest, and his whole body was frozen in a consuming red light, completely immobile.

“You ever watched The Incredibles?” the taunting voice lilted—male, young, smooth but gruff. “S’old as fuck, but the baddie had the right idea with his glove thing.”

It was difficult, but by a gentle wind he could tell he was hovering closer, he kept his eyes forward for the first moment of clarity.

* * *

Rin watched in amusement as the figure became nothing but a red light—actually poised with a _gun_ straight out—and he twirled his fingers daintily as he brought her in closer and closer. He was glad the Syndrome gloves’d worked—they’d been sitting around for so long he’d forgotten their actual name.

“S’almost cute how you were gonna try to gun down my door,” he commented with false leisure, letting his frustration fester but not completely release yet. “But enough about that—let’s be clear, you and me.”

He’d leaned forward to plant his elbows on the desk, and drew in the light closer.

“How to say this—I don’t _appreciate_ you fucking around in my hideout, yeah?” he explained slowly, a dangerous condescension dripping from his tone. “Now y’know what, I might be underdressed, playful, and a bit hot under the collar right now, but I don’t let _anyone_ —” he rolled his neck back, his sneer turning colder and sharper by the second. “Fuck with _me_ , or my toys like that,” he pulled on his glove, and just across the desk the light started to lose colour. “ _So_ ,” It turned transparent, and he finally bothered to fully turn round. “How d’you think I should deal with you, lil Miss…uh…”

He blinked.

Black-haired, blue-eyed, stone-faced, well-built, well-dressed, and aiming to kill. That was _no_ chick.

“…Oh.”

Then he propped his chin over his hands restfully—tongue between teeth and a smirk blooming across his lips.

“ _Oh_ ~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R(a)in's hella gay and horny, who'd've thought ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
